got the story uploaded c:
Obsydian walked through the halls of the kings palace… his palace.
The large, daunting halls worried him. Their french polyester molding hugged every crevice and corner, raked and plagued with the years of age and filth it had seen long before he had even hear of the palace.
It wasn't the halls that sent chills through his spine, it was simply the overall dreary feeling the palace had drilled into his head. His legs having a slight shake to them, he slowly made his way over to the wall, bracing his side against it as he slowly trudged along, looking drearily at the floor as he thought of his new position.
King. King Obsydian.
Sighing, Obsydian shook his head and drug a paw over and along his snout. ‘Don’t stress about it,’ he told himself quietly.
Taking in a slow, deep breath, he steadily distanced himself from the wall. He took on a jaunty pose, holding his head high and bracing out his scrawny chest, trying hopefully to keep his eyes focused on the splitting of the two halls a ways in front of him.
The small, English trimmed windows, he noticed, let in dusty, yet calm and encouraging rays of dirty light. He shut his eyes for a second, taking a single moment to bring down the aching feeling inside, before he opened his eyes again.
The dusty, swirling rays of light had become crowds upon crowds of adoring subjects. They were silent at first, but, as if like a shy lamb; they started to roar in cheer and applause.
Obsydian gasped, taking a few startled steps back. Was that for him? He glanced around. There was seemingly no one else in the building. He looked back out upon the crowds, gulping.
Insecurely, he regained his kingly posture. But, once he had straightened his ears up, he realized that was no cheering. He froze, instantly flattening his ears against his head.
Was that footsteps?
Before he could even brace himself for any impact, someone came barreling into his side, knocking him clean off his feet and pushing the air straight from his lungs. He gasped, the fantasy like crowd popping away as fast a a pin pricking a paw.
Having now become upset, Obsydian tried to focus his shaky eyes on the trigger person.
A scrawny, petite built mutt backed off of the king. They looked very malnourished and their coat was ridden with dirt and scratches. Beeping and squawking, the cutthroat tapped his paws against the floor in a seemingly frantic rush.
Obsydian shut his eyes and rolled them, to make sure his friend didn't see him. Regaining his breath, he stood up. “Maison, it’s just you.” He stood up on Jerry-built legs, looking over his friend a few times.
“you look troubled. Is there something that’s concerning you?” He asked, picking up his ally’s crumbled cardboard crown from the floor and gingerly placing upon his scruffy, pulled back hair.
Maison simply let out a long whine before sounding out like a trumpet a few times as he backed madly away from the king, his shank eventually bumping into the wall.
Suddenly, he opened his mouth and actually spoke real, fluent English with a strangled accent. “Help! Please! King, they've got me surrounded!” He shouted, nearly screamed.
Obsidian was startled, backing up and picking his front left paw up from the floor slightly before leaning his thin snout towards Maison.
“Scurvy?” He asked, his voice hiccuping in his panic.
Maison nodded his head furiously, looking distraught as he hooted like an owl and chirped like a macaw; jumping off the floor slightly and stamping all his paws harshly against the tiled floor, he let out a high pitched whine from his lips, and anyone who lived in the kingdom knew all too well of that sound.
“He’s in the Farthing Woods?” Obsydian asked, already readying to whisk out of the hall as he spread out his small, yet powerful wings and flapping them a couple of times.
Again, Maison nodded frantically. “Help!” He echoed in Scurvy’s strangled tone. “they've got me surrounded!”
Wincing at the harsh reminder, Obsydian realized that right about now time could be running low; taking a shaky, yet firm breath, he stamped his front paw gratingly against the tile with cunning authority as he braced out his chest slightly, gaining a regal stature.
“Lead me to him.” He barked in a gruff tone that he didn't even recognize came from his own mouth. “I’ll meet you in the courtyard.”
With those final words, he turned with a swaying tail. He instantly bolted for one of the largest window frames without any pane glass, or any glass at all; spreading out his wings and leaping through it like a hero.
As the king did so, dust and a gust of wind from his wings swept towards Maison as he lingered there for a moment, his cardboard crown being blown over his ear.
He watched the window with guilt.
~
Obsydian soared over the bright plaza, the salty/smoky air breathing against his fur as he glided past the low hanging clouds.
His shadow was looked ruffled against the tents and taverns of the square. Townsfolk watched him pass by as they stepped out of the path of Maison, who was leading on foot. It wasn't every day you see your newly appointed king with cape and sword soaring overhead.
Obsydian couldn't help but spare one passing glance at the plaza, and there, he became puzzled as he looked back at Maison. He saw Jitters, a ruffled tail, sailors suit, and anchor, could it be Scurvy? ‘No.’ he thought.
Suddenly, Maison could no longer be seen and Obsydian stopped. He hovered there for a moment, flapping his wings out beside him as he glanced at the forest beneath him. Waiting, he listened for a few painstaking moments.
There it was. The sound of alarm bells down in the forest...but over to the near right of him?
He glanced to where the noise was being emitted from, and spotted a glade, Maison standing clear on a cliff and watching the king.
~
Paws touching down against the dewy grass, Obsydian looked up for Maison. He was not there. Nor was Scurvy, or even whoever was holding him hostage.
“....Maison?” He muttered at first, but calling out the last portion of his name. He trotted frantically towards the large cliff were Maison had been standing. Nothing.
He started to become panicked, whipping his head around, looking at all of the dead, decaying trees that had grown large a gloomy that encircled the glade… the only life in the forest beside the king himself it seemed.
Suddenly, a few twigs snapped off towards the left of him, and he snapped his attention towards the startling noise. It was a bird… but how?
A force instantly knocked the king over as he tried to look away from the bird, once again, for the second time this day, knocking the air out of him.
Right before his eyes, before he could even grasp the current situation, the bird split it’s matter form into three and each transformed into similar looking canines, their tan coats and red markings gleaming against their color spectrum blue hair.
“Bandits!” The king wheezed, still unaware of who was holding him down, though he could hear the cliff cracking beneath weight.
The mutt leaned his head over Obsydian’s vision, a flirty smirk covering his maw. His piercing red and blue eyes startled Obsidian.
“Oh boy, May did good tonight!” He called in the king’s ears.
“First off; It’s morning, Vortex.” He snarled. “second off…” Taking all his weight, Obsydian spread his wings out wide and knocked the thieving canine off of himself. “where's Scurvy and Maison.”
Vortex got to his large paws, brushing his fur off and striding with pride back over to Obsydian. “Your little friend?” He cackled. “oh we didn't lay a paw on him.”
Vortex whistled.
Maison came out from behind the tree, his body shivering with his slick furred tail tucked between his legs as he made his way over to Vortex with his head bowed low towards the ground.
“It was all a gimmick to get you away from the palace! Now, let me take care of you so i can get the throne. Boy’s! Center circle!” The three ‘bandits’ rushed into place a few feet on either side of Obsydian.
Vortex lunged at Obsydian, digging his teeth deep into the back of his neck. As soon as his weight landed against the cliff, it crumbled beneath them.
He yelped, releasing the king and bolting off, leaving the king wounded and trying mindedly to grasp onto the crumbling rock, unsure of what was really playing through. His paws wouldn't catch against the loose debris.
Before he even had a chance to grasp the cliff, Maison fell face first against the kings skull and both fell down into the darkness, lifeless and limp.
Obsydian gasped.
{Anyone want me to continue it?}
